"Oh, no! I'd have to stay at the door; but I'd have let in the lady who wanted to put up a pretty lace curtain."
"Was she going to wash the window?"
"No, but the curtain was so handsome, and had such a fine pattern, that she said the marks on the pane wouldn't show."
"What was the lady's name?" asked the Dream.
Marjorie felt in her pocket. "She gave me her card," she said, "in case that I should ever want her," and she drew out a piece of paste-board and read aloud: "'Madame Subterfuge.'"
"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled, "I didn't know that was her name! I didn't look at the card before."
"Turn the card over," said the Dream.
Marjorie did so, and there, printed in big, black letters, was "LIE."
Marjorie threw the paste-board from her. "Why, I didn't suppose—" she began; "—She looked so nice—"
"Never mind," said the Dream, "she's fooled older people than you. And so you want to play porter, do you?"
"Yes; but she couldn't fool me again, of
